


Perfect Illusion

by Nellblazer



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Damsels in Distress, F/M, Illusions, Inappropriate Behavior, Minor Character(s), Mysterio - Freeform, Predator/Prey, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Unhealthy Relationships, Villain Quentin Beck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Quentin Beck knows to fully sell the Mysterio persona, he needs to find the perfect damsel in distress. He just might have found that in you but will you believe the illusion of Mysterio?*Please do not replicate my work without my express permission*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers!  
Here's the start of another fic again.  
We're taking the darker Quentin Beck route here so be prepared for some quite predatory behaviour.  
Happy reading!  
\- TLP xx  
(Possible proofreading errors)

“It’s missing something,” he mused as he watched the avatar of Mysterio fighting off the ‘water’ elemental.

“Quentin, we’ve modified this several times,” William sighed. “I’ve even got one of the drones to spray water out so it seems more realistic. What more do you want?”

“It’s a question of performance,” Quentin said loudly, attracting the attention of the other ex-Stark employees. “Sure, I can look like I’m saving a town but there’s no heart to it!”

“You don’t _need_ heart. You need to be a hero. This does exactly that.”

“Does it?” Quentin started walking around the lab testing room. “Think of all the great heroes. Think of the Avengers. Most of them had something that made them more relatable. Cap has his lost best friend and lover gig, Thor lost his whole species nearly, Hawkeye has a boring nuclear family…you know, _actual_ human stuff.”

“We gave you the backstory of Earth-833. The lone hero of a dead parallel world is a real tearjerker,” Guterman, the storyliner, seemed a little affronted at his criticism.

“That doesn’t make me relatable, it makes me a sad figure,” Quentin pouted for dramatic effect, dragging the corners of his mouth down with his fingers. “There’s something I’m not seeing here. How can I get over with the public?”

“How about saving _one_ person on a big scale rather than hundreds?” Kerry the old intern piped up. “Easier for people to focus then.”

“So someone like the Queen of England?” Quentin mused. “That high profile? Hmmm, no. That’s too pretentious, that’ll seem like I’m only saving the rich and we’re against rich assholes, right?”

There was a general murmuring of agreement from people in the room. They all remembered how Tony Stark had ruined their life’s work in an instant on a whim.

“Oh…..OHHHHHH!” Quentin started laughing. “I’ve got it! I pick a random girl out from the crowd and she can be my damsel in distress! Make an issue out of someone ordinary and that becomes relatable. What I _need_ is a love interest. Oh my god, why did none of you suggest this? You’re all terrible at creating stories, I swear. No offence.”

Offence was definitely taken but no one argued. In the last four weeks since Mysterio went 'live’, Quentin had become more and more fanatical in his approach to achieving his goal.

“Well that’s settled then,” Quentin turned back to the illusion. “Next place I’m in, I’ll find a suitable woman.”

**

Greece was decided to be the destination of choice for the water elemental show.

Quentin stood on the top of the Parthenon, surveying the bustle below him and trying to pick someone to focus on. A lot of the people were completely not his type.

I mean, after all, he had to be attracted to whoever was to become Mysterio’s love interest, right? He just wished it wasn’t all bimbos and old ladies walking by. Sure some tourists were sprinkled in but none of them were around his age. He couldn’t feasibly choose a teenager without that looking extremely problematic and someone who looked older than him would be seen as a charity rather than a potential lover.

This was frustrating when he was such a perfectionist. He could be here all day.

There was a crash to his left and he looked over the side of the column to see you on the ground, entangled in the limbs of an angry tour guide who was shouting. When you finally managed to get up, apologising profusely, the guide walks back to his tour, shooting you dirty looks.

You just smooth down your skirt, checking your hands which presumably must have been scuffed and then bend down to pick up your paperwork.

You had to be a researcher, maybe a historian? The papers looked too weighty to be a student’s thesis.

He finally got a good look at you as you walked into his direct field of vision and he knew.

You were _perfect_.

The right age, the right level of attractiveness, the right level of importance to the world. Saving someone smart was going to score him more points with the public than a random uneducated ingrate. Then again, he’d have to be exceptionally careful you didn’t see through his ruse.

Quentin liked a challenge though.

Time to start the show.

“Got her,” he said into his earpiece. “Get me her tech data and name.”

William sent him all the information he’d ripped from your phone and internet history.

After scrolling through on his HUD glasses and seeing you were a university teacher, a keen hiker and being delighted at the amount of naked pictures on your phone from seemingly a previous relationship, he finally had the measure of you.

**

Your palms were burning from where you’d fallen spectacularly onto the Acropolis floor. Reading your notes had distracted you from noticing your surroundings and you’d already managed to make an idiot of yourself on your first trip up here.

You stow the notes in your backpack, just taking in the sights for once rather than trying to study the architecture. It was good to take a step back occasionally.

As you stared out over Athens, there’s a rumbling that starts below and you see telephone wires bouncing violently. Was there an earthquake coming?

The ground was shifting beneath your feet now and you didn’t know whether to take refuge near the column to hold onto or get towards the more open space to avoid things falling onto you.

With a great crash, water spouts up from several houses, the plumbing exploding into shards as it forms a huge mass. That mass then moves directly towards the Acropolis, arms materialising out of the torrent as it makes its way over.

You’re too in shock to run but you’re bowled over by tourists, security guards and researchers who make a dash for the path back down to the urban areas. Several people manage to stand on you as they flee in panic but some hide in the alcoves of the museum building, helpfully filming the catastrophe on their phones.

You manage to sit up, looking at the monster which was now on top of the rocky outcrop, leering down at you, a face forming in the maelstrom that grinned malevolently.

“Oh shit!” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and trying to make a break for it.

By the way it smiled, you knew it was coming for you and really you had no way of stopping it.

The entirety of all your wasted moments were called to mind as you’re cornered near the cliff edge. You wished you’d been a bit wilder, a bit more daring in your life.

This was the end you guess. Either you fall to your death or get mauled by whatever this thing was.

As you waited for your fate, there was the noise of something powering up and then as you looked towards the source of the sound, you saw something in a cape come flying past, blocking the creature’s attack towards you, sending water spraying either side of your body. You could feel the cold droplets peppering your skin as it passed.

“Run!” the figure with the swirling orb over his face commands and you don’t hesitate, sprinting to the other side of the Acropolis but your path suddenly becomes blocked by water slamming down in front of you and rising up, ready to strike.

The man, you assume it’s a man, whirls around, flying in front of you, using a beam of green light to push the monster back. Only then do you realise you’ve seen him before.

He’d done the same thing in Mexico and had been seen in Northern Africa recently. The superhero they called Mysterio.

“Hold on!” Mysterio shouts, encasing you both in a green bubble, holding you tightly to him with one hand and fending off the creature with the other.

“Why is it after me?!” you yell.

“I don’t know! I’m gonna try and stop it!”

His protective shield breaks though, knocking him away from you and you feel a solid thump as the monster bats you into the air but thankfully it’s not powerful enough to throw you miles. You manage to grab onto a broken mural at the top of the Parthenon, gaining your footing on the column below.

You thought it was immediately going to grab you but its attention is taken up by something else.

Mysterio was on the ground, water engulfing him and it appeared he was drowning. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t even get down. Maybe you could distract the thing though.

“Hey!” you scream at the top of your voice. “Over here, you great ugly bastard!”

Immediately it turned in your direction, sloping over and you can feel the air around you turn humid and close as it approaches. You’re praying Mysterio will get up in time but that possibility was becoming slimmer by the second.

Just as the water slams into you, sending you crashing from the top of the building, intense light blasts the creature to pieces as Mysterio recovers, zipping by and into the Parthenon.

You’re falling, clutching at nothing, the wind whipping your hair into your eyes so you can’t even see anything. Just when you think you’re going to hit the ground, your descent is stopped and a pair of hands are under your body.

“I’ve got you,” Mysterio says softly, the orb peeling back to reveal a handsome bearded man underneath.

You didn’t really expect Mysterio to be good looking but you were pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you,” you nod gratefully as he sets you down. “You saved my life.”

“No, thank _you_,” he smiles. “You distracted it. I would’ve died without that. You saved my life too.”

He looks at you with a gaze that’s somewhere between longing, melancholy and pain and you’re wondering why until he says gently, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Me?”

“I’m sorry, this is probably too much to take in but I’m from another Earth in another dimension,” he sighs, his hand not moving from your back. “I knew you. You were a professor in my world. You taught Literature.”

“Really?” you blink. “I teach Ancient History here. So that’s why you came and saved me? You knew me?”

“I lost you,” his gaze gets more somber. “When the Elementals destroyed my Earth, I lost you.”

“Wait, what _were_ we to each other?” you ask, becoming peripherally aware of the crowd starting to gather around you. “You talk like that version of me meant a lot to you.”

“You did,” he reaches into his armour and pulls out a ring on a chain, sparkling in the afternoon sun. “I was gonna marry you.”

Normally you’d take his story with a pinch of salt in any other circumstance but Mysterio had already proven he wasn’t just a normal human. Maybe other dimensions were real.

“I’m sorry,” he looks shyly down. “I know you’re not her. I know that but…”

“I get it,” you smile. “Hard to see the exact same face.”

“A little,” he smiles back, a little sadly. “I’d best go before the press arrive.”

“Thank you again,” you nod.

“I’m Quentin, by the way,” he lets go of your back. “I hope I see you again sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

A shout from behind you makes you turn around to see the arrival of the paparazzi but when you turn back, Mysterio is gone and you’re left wondering what the hell just happened.

**

“I think that went well,” William pats Quentin on the shoulder in the bar.

“She really bought it, huh?” Guterman purses his lips. “The double of your dead fiancée on Earth-833? That’s actually genius.”

“I _do_ have good ideas,” Quentin shrugs. “High stress situations don’t make people question things too much.”

“So what now?” William asks.

“Now, I save her again but this time, after that, I say she’s too much like my old lover and I can’t help myself yadda yadda and kiss her in front of the press. She’ll be indebted to me by then.”

“Are you going for exposure principle here?” Harry, the technician adds. “Like the more you’re around her, the more she’ll go for you?”

“Something like that.”

“So what are we going with next?” William asks, sipping his beer.

“She’ll go back to her job in London and we can bring out the wind elemental then,” Quentin puts the cold drink to his face, feeling the condensation trickle down his cheek.

“Are you sure this is ethical? Messing with someone’s emotions?” Harry questions.

“Well, life isn’t fair,” Quentin shrugs. “Besides, she gets a hero out of it and fame. Everybody wins.”

And with the view he got down your shirt when he’d caught you, he’d get a lot more out of you in return. That he’d be sure of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin ramps up the next attack in an effort to get closer to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Manipulation
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
\- TLP xx

“For the love of God, can you hurry up on the cape, Janice?!” Quentin rolls his eyes. “I need to look pristine today! _Pristine!_”

“I’m working on it!” Janice says from behind the steamer.

“Everyone else in position?” Quentin turns to his workforce.

“Ready and waiting,” William confirms amidst a general hum of nods.

“Excellent,” Quentin smooths his hair back, combing it down neatly. “This is the big press moment. What am I forgetting? What am I forgetting?”

He clicks his fingers at the others, his other hand on his temple. After a long silence, he audibly groans.

“Breath mints!” he shouts. “I’ve got a kiss to sell!”

“Not like she’s bad looking,” William frowns. “I wouldn’t consider it a hardship kissing her.”

“I don’t chose ugly girls, geez louise. Don’t insult me,” Quentin sighs. “I just meant I’ve got to sell the lover from another dimension crap. Guterman, script?”

“I was thinking if you interrupted her lecture to pre-warn her and then we kick off the light show? Seems less like you just happen to be in the area and more like you’re actively protecting her.”

“I like that, that’s good,” Quentin puts his hands together, bringing them to his lips and thinking. “Plus the look on those kids faces will be everything when I burst in there. Can you set the drones so they crash through the window and out the classroom door and then I’ll run in from the corridor back in?”

“Yeah we can do that,” William confirms. “Going for flair?”

“I can’t just jog in. I’m meant to be Mysterio. Mysterio would have more urgency than using conventional doors.”

“Cape is ready!” Janice calls.

“Thank God,” Quentin grins. “Places everyone! It’s show time!”

**

“Of course you should all know the difference between a Doric column and a Corinthian by now, yes?” you look at your classroom who were wistfully gazing outside.

London was experiencing one of the hottest Mays on record and you knew their attention was definitely not on the lesson right now. Hell, you’d love to be out there sunbathing with the rest of the university.

“And the Greeks used these columns as a guide for how their ice creams were shaped.”

Several students who’d been looking out of the window suddenly blinked and stared at you.

“So we _are_ listening then” you smile and there’s a general hum of laughter. “Alright guys, since I’m the professor here, I get to say when the lesson ends soooooo start packing up your stuff. No one is concentrating today, right?”

“Really?” one of your more earnest students says. “But there’s an hour left?”

“So use it well,” you shrug. “Grab a 99 cone, go sunbathe, have fun. We’re in the last month before the year ends and I expect you’re drowning in coursework from other modules. Get cracking.”

“You’re my favourite lecturer!” another of your students grins, one who usually just coasts by on grades. “I’ve always said that.”

“Yeah yeah, get gone,” you thumb towards the door smiling. “We’ll pick this back up next week.”

Just as everyone’s packing up, there’s a crash from the window and you see a streak of bright green light burst through scattering shards of glass across the floor. It hares across the room before exploding the door into splinters and disappearing out into the corridor.

“Alright everyone get away from the windows!” you shout, seeing a few people bursting into terrified tears.

Everyone was still raw from the Blip at this point, you yourself having faded away only to return five years later.

Your students huddled in the farthest corner away from the windows and you instructed them to have their jackets ready to cover their faces in case more glass flew their way. Meanwhile, you sucked up your nerve and peered through the ruins of the door and down the corridor where several students and professors were poking their heads out of other classrooms.

“What the fuck was that?!” Professor Chris Kimble says to you.

“No idea but it came through my classroom,” you shake your head. “What the hell is protocol with stuff like this?! Do we evacuate?”

But then you fall silent because you see _him_ running towards you.

“Mysterio?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t stop my momentum when I came through the window,” he says coming level and you see Kimble’s eyes widen as he looks from Mysterio to you. “I need to warn you. You’re in grave danger. The wind elemental knows where you are. I need to get you out and somewhere safe.”

“I can’t leave my students.”

“If you _don’t_ leave, your students might be killed. It’s not going to discriminate who it targets as long as you might be in the area.”

“Why me though?” you look nervously back into the room.

“Yeah, why her?” Kimble asks.

“They’re from my dimension,” Mysterio turns around, still patient though you could tell the undercurrent of urgency in his voice. “In my dimension, she was my fiancée. They’re trying to hurt me by killing her….again.”

“Bad luck, mate,” Kimble grimaces at you. “I’ll look after your class. Go with him.”

“Thanks,” you pat him on the shoulder, before falling in step with Mysterio who was already walking towards the exits. “Where are we going, Mysterio?”

“If I can get you to a place away from people then I can fight it without casualties,” he says grimly before his expression softens. “And please, it’s Quentin. Mysterio is just a name they gave me here.”

“Okay, Quentin it is.”

He smiles a little sadly, “I’ve missed the way you say that…I mean…sorry. I’m doing it again.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” you nod, picking up the pace as you cross the campus grounds onto the the park area.

“Even in my dimension you were always understanding. It’s amazing how similar you are.”

“Is it usually different? Like an evil twin sort of Star Trek thing?”

“No,” he laughs. “I mean there have been some differences between people I’ve met before. The Nick Fury in my world for example was a lot more friendly.”

“That’s hard to believe,” you snort. “He always comes across as severe on the TV.”

“My Fury made me a fruit and biscuit basket when I got engaged and I mean _handmade_ it.”

“Wow, that’s really-”

“-Shh!” Quentin says suddenly, stopping dead and listening hard. “No no no no. Not this soon.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s here already. I can sense it.”

“What do you want me to do?” you ask practically.

Panicking would solve nothing.

“Get under something solid. This thing is strong and if it catches you in a current, it could throw you anywhere.”

“Right,” you look towards the concrete bike shelter.

It was out of the way of the buildings but still gave you some cover. You run towards it just as you feel the wind picking up. Your hair is whipped into your face so you’re running blind but you outstretch your hands, feeling them scrape against the rough surface and throw yourself in.

From your vantage point, you can see Mysterio’s helmet cover his face, that swirling mist inside storming angrily as he levitates into the air. The wind is becoming stronger and stronger and you can feel the pull even from where you are, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

A tornado forms from the clouds above, spiralling down until you see a face similar to the water elemental you’d encountered in Greece. It looked past Quentin at you and grinned, lightning flashing inside the storm, illuminating that eerie smile.

“Shit,” you breathe, comprehending the fact you were in mortal danger again.

You’d coped relatively okay with the Athens incident, easy to rationalise that something so fantastical could never happen to you but faced with another monster bearing down, those feelings of insignificance slammed into you. You were nothing compared to this thing. One swipe and your existence was just gone.

Green triangles form around Quentin before they blast at the elemental, forcing it back. It staggers it but in a whoosh, the tornado spout shoots back up into the clouds before dropping down again near the bike shelter.

You brace yourself on the inside railing as the wind gets so strong, your feet are trying to leave the ground. Desperately you cling onto it, wrapping around the metal like a sloth as the elemental’s power tries to tug you away.

“Not her! Don’t you dare try to hurt her!” you hear Quentin roar as he bursts through the creature, coming to rest in front of you as a green bubble forms once again and gravity comes back with a heavy thump as you hit the floor.

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to be helpful. You’ve never felt more powerless.

“Drive it back and I’ll run!” you tell him. “It may give you time to regroup. Protecting me in this is just draining your energy.”

“It’s too risky!” he shouts over the screaming noise of the wind. “I can’t lose you again!”

“Just do it!” you yell, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be alright!”

His helmet draws back, his hair knocked out of its neat style and he looks half crazed, half distressed, “I can handle it! Don’t you-”

But you’re already ducking under his arm, his safety bubble extending around the shelter as you run out of the back of it, haring towards the student’s union centre. You can hear the elemental coming up behind you, the action of sprinting becoming more and more laborious but you press on until something knocks you to the ground.

As you look to the side, you see students in every window, watching what’s going on with horrified faces. Your own class are yelling through the broken window but the words are lost in the screeching of the monster.

You’re lifted up, hovering in the air, only a few inches at first but it kicks up rapidly, dragging you higher and higher until you’re level with the roof of the building, suspended.

“QUENTIN!” you scream.

“EVELYN!” comes the cry as you’re enveloped in a lime glow and you can feel yourself being torn from the elemental’s grip.

Evelyn? Why did he call you that? Was that the other you?

_Sure that’s the thing you think about when you’re in immediate danger of dying._

You’re placed with such gentle care onto the grass that for a moment you’re thrown off balance by the sudden deceleration. When you turn, Quentin’s pulling power towards him, becoming brighter and brighter until he speeds into the heart of the tornado, beams of green poking through the swirl until it explodes into a shower of rain, dumping water over you until your shirt has gone see through.

When you clear your eyes, Quentin is lying on the ground face down and motionless.

“No!” you run over to him, noting on the edge of your eyeline that a BBC News camera crew has pulled into the campus grounds along with an ITV van.

You roll Quentin over, desperately seeing if he’s still breathing. You can’t get him to open his eyes no matter how much you shake him.

A reporter is jogging over with a camera guy, getting far too close and you’re feeling penned in as you’re trying to save Quentin’s life.

“Startling news from London Metropolitan University,” the reporter starts with you in the background checking Quentin’s pulse. “A living tornado crashed down on the campus grounds mere moments ago, attempting to cause destruction. The superhero known as Mysterio defeated it but there appears to have been a cost-”

“-Would you shut that off?!” you say desperately. “Help me!”  
Perhaps it was a testament to how little faith you had in people but you expected her to carry on her report. Instead she broke off, kneeling down in the grass and took Quentin’s wrist.

“You understand it’s just television,” she says in a clipped posh accent. “We need to be at the forefront of reporting. There’s a lot of false information flying around right now. Ah! There’s a pulse. He’s alive. I can call an ambulance and then I need to finish my report.”

“Thank you,” you nod, trying to gently tap Quentin’s face but his head just lolls to the other side. “Come on Quentin. Wake up.”

“From the superhero line again,” you hear the reporter say to her camera operator. “Annnnd go. The superhero known as Mysterio defeated it but there appears to have been a cost. Whether he will pull through remains to be seen but he has saved many lives today and this country owes him a debt of thanks.”

Quentin’s eyes open suddenly as he gasps for breath, sitting up rapidly before his eyes land on you, “You’re alright! Thank god you’re alright!”

He throws his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to him, whispering in your ear, “You’re so so reckless. I told you to stay put.”

“I’m sorry, I thought it would help you,” you whisper back.

“You’re so like her in so many ways but you’re more brave…or more stupid. One of the two,” he half laughs.

“Evelyn right? You called me that.”

“Yeah, yeah that was you, her, I mean….” he pulls back, one hand on your cheek still, the pad of his thumb stroking lovingly over your skin. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop it.”

“Stop what?”

And he leans forward kissing you lightly, almost like he’s afraid of being rejected, “Stop wanting to hold you, to love you. I know you’re not her but it’s just…”

“And a happy ending here at London Metropolitan University where it appears Mysterio has saved his sweetheart. We’ll have more on that story later,” the reporter’s voice cuts over.

“Oh no, please don’t put her on camera. This isn’t her fault,” Quentin struggles to his feet and you help him.

“News is news,” she puts her hands on her hips. “I think the world will want to know the girl who stole Mysterio’s heart. Expect to hear from us again soon.”

“That’s not-” Quentin tries but they’re already leaving. “Shit. I’m really sorry. I can fry their equipment.”

“Don’t,” you support his weight. “I’m a big girl. You don’t need to fight _all_ my battles for me.”

“I can try,” he grumbles. “Listen, I’m sorry about kissing you. I should control myself better.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to hide your blush. “Come in here, we can get some privacy.”

You help him walk to the student’s union before veering off into the staff room and locking the door behind you.

“It’s not fine. That wasn’t okay,” Quentin carries on, sitting heavily on a sofa. “I need to remember you’re a different person. You just look like her and have similarities.”

“I get it. It’s okay,” you try to get through to him. “I’m sure if the situation was reversed I’d be finding it hard too.”

“It’s just, knowing they’re targeting you, it’s not fair. I’m sorry I brought this to your door.”

You sit down next to him, “Tell me about her. How did you meet?”

“Not like _we_ did,” he chuckles softly, staring towards the opposite wall.

“We had information about the elementals in a scroll of text but it was in Chaucerian English. You…I mean Evelyn, was the closest professor who could make it plainer for us. I liked her sense of humour straight away, you know? Instant chemistry. Then she gave Tony Stark such a roast about his own attempted translation and I knew she was something special. She didn’t care I was a superhero. She just saw me. She saw Quentin.”

“How long were you together?”

“About four years. I proposed after two. Wanted to after one but my mom advised against being so hasty. I just knew though. I knew she was the other half of me.”

“A two year engagement huh?”

“Yeah well, despite what the Avengers seem to tell you, the superhero gig doesn’t pay well unless you reveal your identity and I’m not about marketing or merchandising. I’m just trying to help people. We were due to be married in two months before….”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea,” he laughs but you can see tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It’s fine. I need to talk about it sometimes. Holding things in is never good,” he wipes his face. “I’m glad I didn’t make you uncomfortable though.”

“As kisses go, it wasn’t bad,” you smirk and he actually grins.

“I’d like to get to know you better,” he turns to face you. “To prove to myself that you are different from her. Would that be alright? I just need to get it straight in my head.”

“Sure,” you nod. “I have Friday off if you do. Coffee is on me.”

“That sounds wonderful,” his eyes light up happily. “I need to head back to Fury now but name a time and I’ll be there.”

“One o'clock, meet me outside the campus.”

“Done,” he takes your hand, kissing the back of it chivalrously. “I hope next time will be less eventful.”

“Me too,” you smile. “I’ve had enough of elementals for one lifetime.”

“Goodbye,” he nods before unlocking the door and leaving but not before turning to give you such a warm and genuine smile that you’re wondering what the kiss would’ve gone like if the news crews weren’t there.

**

“Annnnnnnd?” Quentin asks when he walks through the door of the base HQ. “How has it gone down?”

“Look for yourself,” William pulls up the Daily Mail headline.

WHIRLWIND ROMANCE – MYSTERIO SAVES MYSTERY SWEETHEART FROM KILLER TORNADO.

The headline photo was him sat on the ground kissing you.

“I love the angle they got,” Quentin uses his fingers to frame the photo. “I look good here. The water on her was a nice touch. She looks like a victim but in a sexy way. God she has a great rack.”

“Why thank you,” William makes an ostentatious bow.

“Although what was that delay with getting her up in the air?”

“Uh, she’s heavier than she looks. Took me a second to recalibrate the drones.”

“I’ll get her to skip pastries tomorrow then,” Quentin nods in deep thought. “Quick thinking. She does some unpredictable things sometimes too. How is the rest of the world’s media taking it?”

“They all want to know who she is,” Guterman flicks through a few news sites on the monitor. “Quite a few angry fan girls calling her names, some sites calling her your Pepper Potts equivalent.”

“That’s it!” Quentin exclaims loudly. “I need to make her more of a media darling than Pepper.”

“Like a power couple?” Janice unhooks the cape from Quentin’s shoulders.

“Exactly! I’m not known to be arrogant like Tony so we’ll be instantly more likeable. The sweet superhero couple, the metahuman and the regular human. This is brilliant! Think of all the brand deals and all the places we could get into!”

“What if she figures it out though?” Guterman asks. “Who you really are?”

“Then we kill her,” Quentin shrugs. “I get bonus points for being the doubly tragic figure then if she dies during an attack.”

“You don’t _actually_ mean kill her?” Guterman pauses.

“Well duh,” Quentin rolls his eyes. “Can’t have her popping back up at some point. You’ll just have to keep feeding me great scripts so she never finds out.”

Guterman swallows nervously and there’s a shared moment between the rest of the crew where they’re wondering if this was still such a good idea.

“What’s next?” William asks.

“Take a break from elementals. I need to do regular groundwork. She’s meeting me for coffee tomorrow so I can work on cementing the bond then, maybe you can arrange for some paparazzi to find us and I can hide her from them. Ramp up the mystery around her.”

“Yeah yeah that could work,” Guterman nods. “Escape out of the back of the café, much more protective then. We’ve got that apartment set up in the Gherkin, kicked an office company out and we fitted it to look like a residential place. Rita’s working on decorating it with fake pictures of you and ‘Evelyn’. Our Photoshop expert has been working overtime.”

“You guys are just something else,” Quentin grins. “Get random nick-nacks and curios so I can sell that the other her gave them to me too.”

“On it,” Guterman disappears to make a phone call.

As Quentin sat down in a nearby desk chair putting his feet up, he reflected on the last few hours. Seeing you soaking wet with a see through shirt was something else and it’d been so hard not to make that kiss something more than it was supposed to be.

Maybe this superhero business had more perks than he realised.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You prepare for your coffee date with Quentin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Derogatory language
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- Happy reading!  
TLP xx

Quentin was basking in the glow of reading internet forums with women ripping your appearance apart saying how you didn’t deserve him, how you were nothing, nobody.

“Wow these bitches are vicious,” he laughs, Guterman reading over his shoulder too.

“Oh my god,” Guterman puts his hand over his mouth. “Fuck, I didn’t realise how awful some people are. ‘Who the fuck does this ho think she is? Mysterio wants a ride or die queen, not a church mouse.’ Jesus Christ….are you sure this is good for her Quentin? If she reads this stuff, she may stay away from you. What if she doesn’t like publicity?”

“Then I need to spend more time with her,” Quentin shrugs. “I have to make her feel safe enough that she ignores the trolls. It’s all about getting her affection right?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Guterman shoves Quentin lightly in the back. “All these freaks drooling over you?”

“You should see the fanfiction,” Quentin grins gleefully. “Mysterio has become so much more than I ever thought. We’re creating a real icon here.”

“A self serving one,” Guterman mutters underneath his breath as he walks away.

“I mean we could get you some plastic surgery if you _really_ want to get into the limelight,” comes the dangerous answer. “Oh but I forgot, we’re penniless unemployed idiots and I’m the only good looking one here. Get real, Guterman. There are no middle aged spread superheroes out there since Thor left.”

“I’ll be in the other room,” Guterman left swiftly.

“JANICE!” Quentin shrieks and his costumer comes dutifully running in. “Where are we on the date outfits?”

“Come this way, I have some mannequins set up,” she waves him and he follows her into her office where scraps of fabric litter the floor in ribbons. “Now, I have several options lined up for you.”

She gestures and Quentin sees three outfits in varying states of formality. He walks up and down each one, not knowing what level to pitch this at.

“What do you recommend?” he asks, fingers curling over his jaw.

“Really?” Janice splutters in surprise.

“You’re the expert. Help me out.”

“Well alright then. The left most one is the most casual. Scuffed jeans to make you look like an ordinary working man with a plain black t-shirt so we don’t do any logo branding when the press come-”

“-That’s genius,” Quentin nods. “I’m not being sponsored by goddamn Pepsi Cola after all. Continue.”

“And it’s tight enough to show the physique so she will be thinking about it when she talks to you. The next one is the halfway step, formal casual. Brown slacks so an air of middle class paired with a maroon sweater that is also tight but covers all of the skin. I’ve also added the touch of glasses so this becomes more of an intellectual fashion statement. The final one-”

“-No I don’t need the final one,” Quentin dismisses the business suit. “This…_this_ is perfect. She’s going to relate to me if I look intelligent. It sells the story more too.”

“This is just a suggestion,” Janice begins hesitantly. “But what if you have this boffin look because her dead double inspired you to begin studying again in your non-superhero down time? Women love it when they think they can influence a man to be more like them.”

Quentin could tell that, for a moment, she was expecting him to start raging at her, to demean her but he didn’t. He thought it was inspired.

“The best source I’m going to get on how to snare a woman is from a woman. Well done, Janice! Maybe I’ll replace Guterman. He’s getting a bit sloppy lately with his plots.”

“Oh, thank you,” Janice nods shyly before taking outfit number two off the mannequin. “And good luck?”

“I never need luck when I have people like you to help me,” Quentin pats her gently on the cheek and notes she blushes bright red.

He still had it. Janice was just a convenient tool to practice on, although she was a little desperate for male attention. Then again, you hadn’t dated in a while so his charm would get you hook, line and sinker.

**

You’re sitting on a bench outside the campus, nervously waiting to see if Quentin will show up.

You’ve never really seen him without the superhero get up on so you have no idea what he looks like normally. You just keep looking around like a startled bird at the sound of any footsteps.

More than once you caught yourself smoothing down your dress, almost neurotically. Maybe you just didn’t believe that someone so fantastical as the great Mysterio could be interested in someone like you. You just wanted to be perfect.

“I feel underdressed,” a voice comes from behind you and you look around to see him standing there in a jumper and trousers, a warm smile on his face and his eyes twinkling behind horned rim glasses.

“Wow, that’s quite a difference,” you smile back.

“Good, I hope?” he shuffles anxiously. “I know this isn’t as grand as the cape.”

“I prefer it,” you walk around the bench. “Shows me who you really are underneath the heroics.”

“Well this is your double’s doing,” he laughs. “She showed me there was more to fashion than band t-shirts and ripped jeans.”

“I’d like that too,” you shrug. “Come on, the coffee house is this way.”

You both start walking in step with each other, making small talk as you move in the direction of the café. You’re pretty sure you’re rambling on but he doesn’t seem to mind. He even asks questions so he must at least be listening.

You’re just so struck by how normal he looks and you can’t keep your eyes off his appearance. It makes him feel a little bit more accessible to you, easier to connect with.

“You’re staring,” he notes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I’m just….this is all a little new to me still. I never thought I’d end up being part of some great superhero story.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not exactly special,” you laugh. “I’m just a nobody.”

“That’s just simply not true,” he stops abruptly. “You’re doing the _actual_ good work, you’re moulding the minds of tomorrow.”

“I think saving Earth from a bunch of elemental creatures wins.”

“If the world had no teachers, nobody would’ve been able to send me here to this dimension. You’re not nobody at all.”

It takes you a moment to register that he’s taken your shoulders in his hands and is gazing into your eyes intently. It’s almost scary how much you want to hold him at that point.

“I’m sorry, I’m being forward,” he moves back. “I just don’t like you talking negatively about yourself.”

“Did she?”

“Who?”

“Evelyn.”

“Oh no, she used to put people in their place if they ever spoke down to her,” he smiles fondly. “I used to almost want them to try just to see her rip them a new one.”

“I’m just not as confident, I guess.”

“You should be,” he says seriously. “You were incredibly brave both times you’ve been targeted. She may have been a spitfire but she froze up in truly dangerous situations. _You_ saved my life.”

A tiny little burst of pride spreads through you at that. You saved a superhero.

“Here it is,” you walk in the door of the coffee house, relaying the orders and waiting for your drinks.

Quentin declines getting a cake or pastry so you go without too, not wanting to seem like an idiot when you inevitably got chocolate fudge cake all over your face.

He leads you into the most secluded corner, sitting a respectable distance away and leaning back in the booth, drawing attention to his broad shoulders. You’re sure he might be doing this on purpose but you don’t mind the show.

“Tell me about yourself,” he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That’s why I’m here after all.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why Ancient History for a start? I want to know all the differences between you and her so I can stop mistaking you.”

“Well….I just like how much simpler older civilisations were and yet advanced. They learned quickly and built some truly amazing things.”

“It’s good to learn from the past,” he nods. “It’s good to learn at all actually. Did you know I started studying Ancient History because Evelyn gave me the inspiration to study? She disapproved of my subject choice but there was just a fascination with all the old myths.”

“You’re a mature student?” you put down your cup.

“I know it’s a little embarrassing but I never had the time to do further education because there was always one crisis after another but when all the teams got together, the incidents became less and I had downtime. I wanted to better myself.”

“That’s really admirable actually,” you catch yourself before you put your hand over his.

“Well thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Doesn’t make the teasing in class go away though. More about _you_ though. Anyone meaningful in your life?”

“I was engaged,” you admit. “But my ex decided they’d rather live a single lifestyle and still enjoy the home comforts.”

“They cheated?!”

“Yeah, what can you do?” you shrug. “So no wedding and I’ve not really looked since. I just needed time to myself, you know?”

“I get that. I’m sorry, that must have been awful. What a dick. I can’t see why anyone would cheat on you.”

“Some people aren’t happy with themselves deep down and act out.”

“I could never hurt a person like that,” Quentin trails off, picking up his mug and drinking from it. “I’m kind of a traditionalist. I like the idea of finding one person to share my life with and build a family with.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile.

“You know what _is_ nice? Being able to know you better. You look like her but you’re so different and I really enjoy this universe’s version of you.”

“Uh thanks, I guess,” you laugh.

“I didn’t mean that to come out so terribly,” he shakes his head. “I meant I like you. Uh, I mean….shit. I’m so bad at this. I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to like me too but not just as Mysterio.”

At that, he genuinely hides his face in his jumper, sinking down in the seat looking incredibly embarrassed, “God that sounds corny.”

“I get it. It’s hard for people to see past the celebrity in a way,” you nod. “For what it’s worth, I’m enjoying myself.”

“Really?” he pops his face back out. “Oh thank God. Well that makes me feel less worried.”

“Just relax,” you laugh, wondering how the hell the world’s most stoic superhero was across from you, acting like a teenage boy. “Tell me something you always wanted to do as a kid, before you knew about your powers.”

“I wanted to invent things,” he answers off the cuff then his eyes widen like he’d just spilled something he shouldn’t have.

“Like what? You wanted to be a scientist? Engineer?”

“I wanted to make tech to change multiple industries,” he says hesitantly. “I always used to take my toys apart to see how they worked.”

“I’m surprised you never went and studied that then.”

“Life moves on,” he smiles but it’s a half smile. “I was destined for other things.”

“That’s a little tragic,” you’ve moved closer but you don’t know when.

“Sometimes all I _feel_ is tragic, like it’s part of my core being. Nothing ever works out for me,” there’s that sad smile again.

“Well it did here,” you say firmly. “You saved the world.”

“For how long though?”

“Quentin, don’t worry about what _might_ happen. Just enjoy the moment.”

“You’re right, of course you’re right,” he shakes his head. “Sorry for getting morose, this is not why I asked to see you. I just feel like I can tell you anything and it’s not just because of Evelyn. You’ve just got one of those healing souls and I already feel way better for getting this off my chest.”

“Healing souls?” you repeat, blushing a little. “That’s a nice term for 'one of those faces’.”

He laughs loudly, throwing his head back before righting himself and his hand falls on yours. There’s a shared moment where you both look at the point they meet and then into each other’s eyes.

He doesn’t dare move forward but his gaze keeps flicking down to your lips and you know he wants to kiss you again but he’s holding himself back. You’re about to lean in and save him the torment when a flash pops off to your left.

“Hey!” Quentin shields your face with the café menu. “Stop that!”

Then a series of flashes and some of the patrons are getting up and walking over with cameras.

“Please stop! We just want to talk in peace!” Quentin says angrily before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the back room to the protests of staff but he searches for an exit before barrelling out of it with you. “This way!”

You’re half jogging down a back alley until a taxi comes into view and he flags it down. You note it’s a little odd that the cab stops, usually you have to pre-book but you don’t question it when you hear the press coming up behind you and you clamber in.

“The Gherkin,” Quentin says to the driver before turning to you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. They must have seen us walking over and-”

“-It’s fine, I get it,” you interrupt. “You’re a famous superhero. People will always want to get the next big story on you.”

“Are you okay with coming back to my apartment? I just kinda wanted to get you away,” he looks out of the windows. “I can drop you off somewhere if you want.”

“I’m okay with going to yours and talking some more.”

Then you fall into a comfortable silence for a while.

**

The plan was going off without a hitch.

The timing of the press was perfect and Quentin hoped they’d got the money shot of you almost going to kiss him. That would look awesome in the tabloids. A romance interrupted.

He’d played you like a fiddle so far, pulling emotional responses from you when he feigned insecurity or sadness. Unconsciously you’d gravitated towards him and he knew you were dangling on the hook. It was only a matter of time before he could push it a little further and get more from you.

There was one thing that bothered him though….

He hadn’t meant to accidentally spill something true about himself. The tech thing. Why had he said that? I mean sure, it made his story more real but he couldn’t help himself in responding.

He’d need to keep that in check in the future. Maybe you did have 'one of those faces’ after all.

He should keep his mind on the task though and as the Gherkin came into view, the next phase of getting you to fall for him was ready to begin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin shows you his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor Smut, derogatory language
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> I'm back guys! After Kinktober it's good to get back on the wagon with my regular fics
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- TLP xx

As you rode up the glass elevator, looking out at the world disappearing beneath you and the London skyline stretching ahead, you realised just how out of your depth you were. This was a place for people with status and what were you?

Just a lowly lecturer.

“Hey,” Quentin says softly, nudging your shoulder with his. “What's the matter? You don't want to come up? You know there's no pressure.”

“It's not that...it's....this is going to sound silly,” you bite your lip. “I just feel very lower class being here.”

“Oh don't start,” he laughs. “Do you know where I came from? I lived in a trailer to start with. You never need to feel like this with me. I understand. I don't like it either. You know what I would like?”

You catch his gaze and feel yourself falling for him just a bit more at the vulnerable expression on his face, “What?”

“A house in the suburbs, a family, a dog or two. Hell the American dream of the fifties is fine by me but without the obvious sexism part.”

“That sounds really nice. I always wanted a cottage out in the country with a little garden that I could tend to...maybe a four poster bed is the highest form of luxury I can lust after. Those things are beautiful.”

“I think you've been to too many historical houses,” he jokes. “But that sounds nice too. We're here.”

He steps off and there's only a direct corridor leading to a door which he opens and you take a breath.

Whichever way you looked, you could see the entirety of London. The room was all open plan, a living area, a kitchen, a cordoned off bathroom and a raised area above with a bedroom....with a four poster bed.

“I would've told you about that,” Quentin points to it. “But I wanted to see the look on your face. You're very sweet.”

You swear you might have died from blushing too much. He just gives you a smile that crinkles around his eyes.

“Is that....her?” you spot the picture frames on the table by the sofa and walk towards it.

Quentin laughing with what looked exactly like you by a beach, Quentin and her at a fun fair, Quentin and her hiking, Quentin proposing...

“She looks exactly like me. Not even a different hair colour,” you breathe, feeling a rush of vertigo all of a sudden.

You stumble backwards a little bit and he catches you, panicking a little.

“Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't think. I should've put these away...I should've...”

“It's my fault,” you gain your footing again. “This is just a headfuck. I'll be okay in a bit. What's that?”

You motion to a battered leather suitcase that was framed on the stairs towards the bedroom level. It looked old and well used.

“That's the suitcase I grabbed before I left,” Quentin says softly behind you. “Everything I could carry from my world. She gave me that when I started my studies. Said it made me look more professional. I didn't tell her I would've preferred a rucksack but I'm grateful for it when that time came.”

“I should go,” you felt uncomfortable in that moment. “I keep dredging things up for you.”

“No, stay. Please,” he puts a light hand on your arm. “I know she's gone. I just keep things of hers because it's comfortable. I asked you up here because I want to protect you from the media and because...I guess...selfishly I wanted to be alone with you. I know it's so wrong wanting that, given who you look like but you're so different and I really....I like you.”

“Quentin,” you let him pull you closer. “I like you too. I just....”

“I get it. It's weird, right?” he chuckles gently. “But just know it has nothing to do with Evelyn. It's to do with _you_. I want to know everything about _you_. I want to be around _you_.”

He's hovering again, casting his eyes down towards your lips but he's deliberately holding back, not wanting to make a move and scare you.

The tension had picked up and you were aware you were breathing hard, your muscles coiled and just....waiting.

Could this really be real? Could a superhero be this interested in you?

**

This was it. You were caught hook, line and sinker.

All the crap about the shitty upbringing, the mourning of the dead you and the vulnerable confession and he could see in your eyes that you wanted him. You'd swallowed all the sappy shit he'd fed you and now he only had to wait for your resolve to break before he could have you.

God he hoped you were good in bed. What a waste of effort if you weren't.

Then again, nobody said he had to be monogamous if you were a bad lay.

_Come on, baby. Just lean forward. Be a good girl._

If you didn't kiss him soon, this was going to be very awkward and he couldn't deal with that.

It happened all at once.

You sort of threw your arms around him, kissing him so hard he was caught off guard. Maybe you'd been scared to do it so you just launched yourself. He soon got the rhythm of it though and he made sure to pepper your name in tiny breaths as you both broke off to breathe.

“We need to stop before we lose control,” he has you by the waist, the other hand on the back of your head and he can just see the liveliness of your eyes.

_They're beautiful._

Of course they were beautiful. He'd chosen you for your attractiveness. He didn't know why his consciousness was waxing lyrical about it now.

“What's so bad about that?” you ask.

He had you. He could push completely and fuck you 'til you screamed for him but he needed to tease this out just a little bit longer for believability's sake.

Mysterio wasn't a cad...even though Quentin might be.

“I don't want to be like one of those guys you've dated before,” he strokes your hair. “I'm not after one thing and I like things to feel...special. I guess that's kinda old fashioned.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen like you weren't expecting this. “Oh sure. No, I understand.”

“How about I make us a drink? Fury has some sort of device linked up to the TV that gets me any movie I ask for. We can turn this into a real date if you'd like?”

“I would like that,” you smile, your cheeks still a bit rosy with the flush of lust.

“Take a seat, I'll be back shortly.”

He left before you could see the obvious strain in his pants. It was killing him to hold off. That small display you just did showed him you were one of those kind of 'prim in the streets, kinky in the sheets' girls and he wanted you so badly.

Instead he took a breather, poured some champagne and quickly checked his phone.

Guterman had sent him a link to the new article in the Daily Mail and it was just perfect. They had a front page picture of you almost kissing and he had to say, you looked a good looking couple. Even the comments seemed to be positive. Most were angry at the paparazzi for invading your privacy.

Then he opened his texts.

**Guterman: How is it going?**

**Q: She just kissed me. We got this. Got more ground work to do. Had genius idea. Press conference about the Elementals with her with me. Assassination attempt. Create me a new villain. No, create me an ARCH NEMESIS.**

With that he withdrew from the kitchen, stuffing his phone back in his pocket.

**

“I got you champagne since you're not driving,” Quentin came back with two flutes and the bottle tucked precariously under his arm. “Thought we could use the relaxer after the day we've had.”

“Thank you,” you take it, hoping not to seem like an alcoholic when you nearly necked the entire glass.

“Thirsty huh?” he laughs. “I'd better keep up.”

He drained his flute before topping them back up and sitting down next to you. The proximity was a lot closer than at the café.

“I hope I didn't upset you by stepping back,” he seems a bit more serious now. “I just don't want to be 'that guy' for you. I want you to know I'm sincere.”

“I know you are,” you meet his gaze. “I may not understand it but I know you're a good guy, Quentin and you didn't upset me.”

“Good,” he grins in relief. “I wouldn't want to knock your confidence or anything. You're beautiful and God knows I'd love to take you upstairs but I want to do things right.”

“You want to take me upstairs?” your eyebrow raises playfully and you watch him squirm a little.

“I shouldn't have said anything,” he stutters. “That's too much.”

You couldn't help but push. Some part of you was desperate to know how strong his willpower was. Some part of you maybe thought that if he gave in easily, it was just about sex with a familiar face. You were a little bit self destructive that way.

“What would you do with me upstairs?”

Your sentence hangs in the air as you study his face and the way his pupils dilate and the way he licks lips that have suddenly gone dry.

“Uh...geez, you really are nothing like Evelyn,” his voice is a little strangled.

“Sorry am I too forward?”

“I'm not used to it. I had to...chase, if that's the right word? You're really putting me in a dilemma here,” he laughs but you can spot the panting chest as he restrains himself.

“Quentin, it's okay to ask for what you want. You'll get a straight answer.”

“I need to kiss you again. That wasn't enough.”

“So kiss me.”

He doesn't wait for you this time. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours urgently. You're drowning in the hungriness of his movements, the reverence of how he touches you and the small shakes as he tries to stop himself pushing you down and taking the next natural step.

You hook your arms around him, pulling him so he's lying on top of you and there's a soft roll of his hips as he ends up between your legs, your dress rucking up around your thighs.

“You are perfect,” he rasps, voice low and husky. “So fucking perfect.”

His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own and you're gyrating back against him, trying to get some friction. He'd turned you into a wanton mess and all you could think about was getting off.

He meets your action, pushing against you whenever you pushed against him and you could feel his hard cock through the thin trousers just rubbing against you in the right way.

This was teenage stuff, it was young exploration but in that moment it felt adult, it felt real. You were both chasing release, grinding against one another as you both openly moaned into the never ending kiss.

You could feel the heaviness pulling in your core, the small twitches that signalled your orgasm was near and for a second you felt embarrassed to be doing this but Quentin leaned back on his hands, using a different angle, knowingly driving you further on.

“Come on, baby. I can see it. Let go for me.”

And you did. You bucked beneath him, mouth slack as pleasure pulled at you and your cries reached to the high ceiling.

“Shit, I'm gonna....” you hear and Quentin's hips stagger as he finds release himself. “Fuck. Wow.”

You just stare at each other, panting hard as something unreadable passes over his face but it's gone and it's replaced by boyish shyness.

“That's not happened for a long time. I swear I'm not usually-”

“-I think we both got worked up,” you interrupt him, giggling.

“I'm so glad I found you,” he smiles broadly before dropping behind you, pulling you into a spooning position on the sofa and peppering your cheek with tiny kisses. “But I really think we should watch that movie now. We're doing things waaay out of order.”

You do an inelegant laugh before nuzzling back against him, “You pick. I'll be fine with whatever.”

And when the film started, you found yourself interlacing your fingers with his as his arm was slung over you.

It was the most content you'd been for a long time.

**

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Quentin _never_ came quickly. He prided himself on being a long time lover not a two pump chump. Jesus.

And from dry humping too?!

What, had he turned into a sixteen year old?

What the hell were you doing to him? It was starting to unnerve him how much he was slipping up. He should have just fucked you. This was far too intimate and he felt like you were starting to play him as much as he was playing you.

I mean, who was the tempter in that situation because it _certainly_ wasn't him. He expected you to maybe accept his celibacy stance or to beg a little pathetically but you were just a full on seductress and he hadn't been prepared for that.

But you know what? This had got a _whole_ lot more interesting now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin asks you to go to the press conference but you're not quite as keen as he'd like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- TLP xx

You woke up in unfamiliar sheets.

You stretched out, becoming aware you were clothed as you sat up. The afternoon with Quentin had gone on much longer than you anticipated and the last thing you remember was watching another movie.

It was just becoming light outside, the sun poking through the hangings of the four poster bed as you opened them and peered out. Quentin didn't appear to have joined you and in fact, was sprawled out on the sofa on the lower level, leg dangling off and arm splayed across his face to block out the dawn.

You felt awful that you'd managed to kick him out of his own bed but also secretly happy that he'd turned out to be a real gentleman.

You'd just swung your legs out of the bed and padded over to the stairs when his phone started ringing and he shot awake, looking like he was panicking before grabbing the device and answering.

“Hello? Ah hey. Yeah, yeah I can do that. What time? Uh huh. Sure. I'll ask her but I make no promises. I don't want her exposed to media hounding, okay? Can you promise me that? Okay. Thank you. Bye.”

As if he knew you were hovering at the top of the stairs, he suddenly looks up and his face relaxes into a smile.

“Morning beautiful.”

“Hi,” you shuffle nervously. “So I guess I passed out, huh? That's embarrassing.”

“Don't be shy,” he laughs, brushing his errant hair back which was falling into his eyes. “It was sweet. I just wanted to make sure you were more comfortable.”

“Thank you. You really didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. Hey, I got asked by Fury to do a press conference and he thinks it would be nice if you came with me. I understand that's a little scary so it's totally up to you.”

“He wants us to do it together? Why?” you blink, wondering why Nick Fury was interested in you of all people.

“Because...I....ah geez I'm not good at this,” Quentin hides his face before taking a deep breath. “Because I'd...like to go steady with you and Fury thinks it's good PR. That's why I'm not pressuring you because I don't like the idea of parading you around like an ornament hanging off my arm.”

“Are you saying you'd like to be official?”

“It's way too soon, I know. I just...I love being around you and you make me happy for the first time since I came here. Feel free to tell me to jump off a cliff.”

“Quentin, I probably should think about this. It's a big step.”

**

No no NO! FUCK!

_Think_ about it?!

He should have you eating out of the palm of his hand by now. What kind of girl _were_ you that you needed to think about it? He'd done his best charm offensive and it _still_ wasn't good enough.

He tried not to let it show on his face though.

“I understand,” he lied. “Sorry, I was far too eager. If you need some space, that's okay.”

“I've upset you,” you bite your lip.

You were really good at reading his expressions and he'd have to be careful about that from now on. He wasn't upset though, disappointed maybe, affronted perhaps. His ego had taken a kicking.

“I'm that obvious, huh?” he smiles shyly.

“I just....this is all really fast, Quentin.”

Says the girl who was dry humping the shit out of him last night.....

“I get it. Don't worry. I can see you after the press conference. I mean if you want to that is. I mean-”

“-Shhh,” you take his face in your hands. “You've got a really bad habit of nervously gabbling. Look, how about I go to the press conference as support for you but nothing is officially said yet?”

“I'd be happy with that,” he nods. “I can get you in the seats rather than the stage. I'll square that with Fury.”

It was a fair compromise he guessed and it still meant the plan could go ahead. It would just have to be a more direct hostage situation than the 'arch nemesis' sniper Guterman had gotten planned. He'd need to do some covert texting later.

“When is it? Do I have time to get changed? I feel a bit....yeah.”

“Well you look beautiful to me. I could wake up to you any time.”

Thereeeeee we go. There was the shy little hair tuck that showed that you weren't immune to him. You were just cautious.

Shy girl in the streets, absolute slut in the sheets from what he could tell.

That was the best kind though, right? He shouldn't back down from a challenge because it's not immediately easy.

“Charmer,” you try to hide your smile.

“Yes there is time to go change. The meeting is at midday. Shall I meet you there?”

“Yeah, yeah and thank you for a lovely evening yesterday.”

You'd better not kiss him on the cheek now. You couldn't do what you did and then just blow him off.

Thankfully you tipped your head back as you approached him and that gave him the signal. He kissed you gently, not pushing it too far.

“No, thank _you_. I'll see you later, sweetheart.”

As you left the apartment, you looked over and threw him a wink before disappearing towards the lift. He watched your ass sway until you were out of sight and then flopped down onto the sofa.

Jesus, you were both a pain in the ass and the most interesting girl he'd ever met.

This was going to be a fucking carnival at this press conference and he was incredibly curious to see how you'd react. Maybe he'd even get lucky and get a proper fuck this time after.

**

You spent a great deal of time while you were getting ready thinking about what Quentin had said.

He had asked you to be his girlfriend but your initial reaction was to play it safe. Why?

Maybe because it seemed to be too good to be true. Here was a superhero, a _rich_ superhero, who liked you and who was willing to tell the world he wanted you.

Where were the flaws? Was he going to turn out to be some narcissistic asshole? A control freak? An abusive prick?

You'd barely known him for collectively more than two days after all.

But then again....

There was the fantasy in the back of your head of the perfect romance and Quentin fit that beautifully. Could you allow yourself to believe?

When you reached the Parliamentary building, your arm was grabbed by a harried looking woman who scooted you into a private room and straight into the path of..

“Director Fury?” you blink, almost stumbling over the words.

“Professor,” Fury nods. “This is Agent Hill who escorted you in. We're here to talk to you about Mysterio.”

“Uh, okay.”

“He's taken a great liking to you and you seem to attract a lot of trouble.”

“Wait, you're not going to off me, are you?” the thought invades your mind.

“What?!” Fury looks puzzled. “Are you motherfucking serious? You think I'm gonna bring you into the Houses of Parliament to kill you? Fuck, they said you were supposed to be smart.”

“Hey, fuck you,” you frown. “Two government officials take me aside and say I'm causing trouble-”

“-Alright, I suppose that's fair. Listen, I need to talk to you about who Mysterio is.”

“I thought you knew who he was?”

“Really we know nothing about him and we have reason to think he might be not be everything he says he is. You have the potential to get close to him. We're asking you, if there's anything funny that you see that you report it to us. Might be nothing but an old man being paranoid but I like to make sure I do things right. I don't trust easy.”

“What do you mean you don't think he's being truthful?”

“Just a hunch,” Fury turns his good eye up towards you and it makes you shiver involuntarily.

There was something about the way he said it, the absolute conviction that had you starting to doubt Quentin. If Fury was getting nervous then maybe you should too.

“Look, like he said, it may be nothing,” Agent Hill chimes in, seeing your stricken face. “Just be careful. Give me your phone and I'll put my details in. You ever need us, call us, okay?”

You hand over your phone, feeling a little numb as she plugs in her number and gives it back.

“You gotta seat at the back,” Fury informs you, throwing you a press pass. “Keep outta sight of the front row if you can. I understand you're quite the news story lately.”

“Thanks,” you fumble with it, pulling the lanyard over your neck.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Fury says as you're about to leave.

“You can.”

“Is it serious between you two? Are you gonna tell him what I said?”

“No and no. I hadn't decided how serious it was yet. That's _my_ business.”

“I like you,” he laughs. “See you after the conference.”

You go into the main hall where Quentin is in his full Mysterio regalia. He gives you a tiny nod as you enter, keen not to draw attention to you as you quietly slip into the seat.

When the official conference starts, you're dwelling on Fury's request. You watch Quentin answer questions humbly, genially even and with a sense of humour.

Could he really be hiding something? All of those pictures in his flat seemed real enough...

You'd been more sure of him when he was between your legs and grinding.

Oh god, were you making the right decision here? You'd just have to go into this with eyes wide open, perhaps.

There's an explosion above which sends bits of plaster raining down from the ceiling. Some of the dust lands in your hair, coating it in white powder. Screaming crescendos as people start scattering but the doors close with a loud thwack, locking in place.

The shrieking reaches a fever pitch as the lights go out, plunging the room into total darkness, save the blinking lights of the cameras. A few phone flashlights flare into life as finally the emergency back up starts trying to flicker.

You feel something sharp poke into your back and words hiss into your ear, “Don't move. Don't even turn around or this will end very badly for you, my dear.”

As everything illuminates once again, the only thing that fills your vision is Quentin's terrified face right in front of you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin's arch nemesis makes his debut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left this on a cliffhanger whilst it was on hold and I'm sorry but hey I'm back and have some smut to make up for it!
> 
> Warnings: Violence, smut, manipulation
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- NB xx

“You get away from her right now!” Quentin looks livid as he stands up, running to the front of the stage.

“And miss the opportunity to kill your darling? I don't think so,” the voice laughs behind you. “You're not the only being that made it off Earth-833. Don't you recognise me?”

You can't turn around but you watch Quentin's eyes widen, his mouth drop open in horror, “_You!_”

“_Me_.”

“But they killed you?! I saw the Elementals kill you?!”

“You saw what I wanted you to see...or did you forget what I can do? Tut tut. Loving the new playground, by the way. This earth is so much more fun and seems you didn't waste any time tracking down the double of your girlfriend.”

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Quentin shouts and you see green shapes start twisting around his hands.

“Uh uh uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” the man chides. “I can open her up in seconds.”

“What do you want, Astral?”

The person you assume to be Astral laughs before licking up your ear, making you cringe. You've never seen Quentin this mad before.

“I want to be the last person standing, of course. It's just you and me left and think of the supremacy I can achieve if I outlast even you, Arcanum...or should I call you _Mysterio_ now?”

“Then let her go and let's fight but away from everyone.”

“I think I'll take her with me as insurance.”

The sharp object is no longer pressing against your back and you take the opportunity to turn around, punching as hard as you can where you think a face would be. When your hand crumples against something more solid than the bone you were expecting, you howl in surprise before the man shoves you so hard you knock over several of the reporters in front of the stage.

“This one is more insolent,” Astral sneers and you finally get a look at him. “I preferred our earth's Evelyn.”

He's taller than Quentin, lither and with hollowed, pinched cheeks. If you had to describe his look you'd say....battle magician meets fortune teller. Everything about him screamed that he knew magic and, if you were following the conversation correctly, Astral could produce realistic illusions.

“My name is not Evelyn, you bastard,” you hiss, getting up in the safety of the reporters.

Quentin lets loose a barrel of energy which Astral dodges by vanishing and reappearing next to a television camera. Again and again they play this chasing game until the back wall is blasted and scarred.

“Still so slow,” Astral holds up a finger and wags it. “I'll be taking my collateral now and then we'll talk prize fights.”

“RUN!” Quentin yells to you, leaping off the stage and floating to the ground before you see a full on light show of lasers between the two.

You scarper to the side door, shoulder barging it open as you race outside, kitten heels clacking loudly on the polished floor and you wished you'd chosen more sensible footwear. You headed for the direction of the room Director Fury was in and when you flung yourself in there, you heard a small squeak of surprise and saw a blur of red and blue suddenly jump onto the ceiling.

“Who the hell are you?!” says a very young voice.

You blink as you look up at Spider-man, goddamn _Spider-man_ who was crawling above you. Fury was nowhere to be seen.

“Where's Fury? Hill?” you ask.

“They just left,” Spider-man drops to the ground. “Something going on? They seemed like they were in a hurry.”

“A villain from Quen- _Mysterio's_ world is here. They're fighting in the main chamber.”

“Oh okay,” he nods before turning back to you. “Wait, so why are _you_ here? Are you S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“What?”

“Do you work for Fury?”

“No, I...I'm...with Mysterio.”

“Ohhh!” the lenses widen. “Right, gotcha. He tell you to run?”

“Yeah, I just came to see if Fury could help.”

“They'll be okay. I hear Mysterio is really powerful. Come on, I'll help you get outta the building.”

“Well...you really _do_ look after the little guys.”

“Sure do, Ma'am,” he salutes you. “Follow me!”

You're just running behind Spider-man when a blast sends you flying, your feet lifting from the ground before you're slammed into the floor and all the wind is knocked out of you. You gasp like a dying fish before a set of hands turns you over hurriedly.

“Miss Mysterio?!” Spider-man looks, as much as he can do, concerned. “Excuse me? Miss Mysterio, are you okay?”

“What was that?” you let him pull you to a sitting position and you see Quentin and Astral punching back and forth through the walls of the corridor getting nearer and nearer. “Shit!”

“Hang on!” Spider-man motions to his neck and despite feeling really silly and much too big for the small superhero, you cling to the back of him as he jumps in the air and starts swinging quickly away.

“Oh my god!” you're getting motion sick with the rapid deceleration and twisting.

“Please don't puke on me! This suit is super hard to dry clean!” Spider-man yells over the destruction behind you. “Hang on!”

You both burst through the window, shards of glass knicking at your hands as you get out onto the main street and when he starts rising upwards to the top of the buildings, you wrap your legs around his waist, absolutely terrified you'll fall off. You're sure you were crushing him.

“We're okay! You can let go now!” he stops and you fall off of him ungracefully, spinning over and trying to resist the urge to wretch.

“It takes some getting used to,” he awkwardly pats your back.

“Are they following?” you just about manage to crawl to the lip of the roof and spot a neon blue streak zoom out of Parliament and off into the sky.

“I don't think so,” Spider-man looks too. “Guess they stopped.”

It's not long until there's a green blur of smoke that joins you and Quentin is stood there, bruised and bloodied. He looks shocked to see Spider-man standing there but ignores him ultimately in favour of running to you and dropping to his knees, cupping your face.

“Are you alright?!” he's desperately searching for injuries.

“Just mental damage,” you look into his frantic eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” he seems on the edge of tears. “It's all my fault. All of this is all my fault. I should've stayed away from you. I've put you in so much danger.”

You don't want to hear it. You're just glad to be alive. You throw your arms around his neck and he gratefully sags into your embrace.

Spider-man gives an awkward cough, “I'll be getting back now.”

“Thank you so much, kid,” Quentin disentangles himself from you to address him directly, getting up and shaking his hand. “I owe you so much for saving her.”

“It was nothing, Mr Mysterio,” Spider-man seems shy about the praise. “Just helping out. Glad you're both okay.”

“I'll tell Fury what you did today. You need to be congratulated.”

“Really, it's nothing. Just doing my neighbourhood job...not in my neighbourhood. I need to get back now. See ya around!”

He gives you a wave before jumping off the roof and swinging away.

**

Okay, Spider-man was an unexpected variable but one he could work with in his current storyline. He could tell the kid was gawky, not very social and, if he remembered right, was Tony Stark's pet puppy dog.

Easily manipulated.

Gullible even.

When he eventually started to enact his plan to get the Stark Tech glasses from this child, and let's be honest, Parker _was_ a child, he would have everything he needed to be Earth's primary hero.

The technology for Avenger's threat level illusions, an arch nemesis and his own personal damsel in distress.

Quentin needed to be careful though. He could see he'd just about pushed you to your limits right now for fear and he didn't want to tip you into the needing therapy category. Spider-man may have stolen his heroic rescue but trying the guilty self-loathing angle was working so far.

He didn't know why he felt a twinge of regret when seeing blood on the back of your hands though. Was he almost...._sorry_ for putting you through this? No, it just had to be a squeamish thing, that it looked unsightly.

“Can I take you home?” Quentin offers. “I'd understand if you wanted to be far away from me at this point.”

“He'll find out where I live,” you sigh. “It's not hard to do. Can I stay with you? I doubt your location is on any database.”

Perfect. Fucking perrrrrrfect. This was writing itself.

“Of course. It's my mess, the least I can do is protect you as best as I can. Get in my arms.”

Entrusting the drones wouldn't drop the two of you was quite a feat but he was getting used to balancing on them. To you it would look like he just floated to the ground.

When you got back to “his place”, there was an eerie quiet and for a moment he was worried he'd tipped it too far.

“Arcanum, huh?” you finally turn around.

“I never pick these names, you know,” he tries for a charming smile which seems to pull one back from you. “Astral, he.....he used to be my best friend until we both started liking the same girl.”

“Evelyn?”

“No, before Evelyn,” Quentin sighs and sits down at the table. “She was called Rosa and we both went a bit...silly trying to get her attention. When Rosa chose me, Astral....._Lorenzo_ swapped sides as it were. Funny thing was, Rosa decided she didn't want anything to do with either of us after that. Don't blame her. He's never gotten over it though.”

“Is it ever going to end, Quentin?” you say quietly, staring at the table top. “The danger? Am I always going to be in danger around you?”

“I can't answer that,” he goes for the brooding vibe. “My lifestyle, my job....I could be attacked at any time.”

“And Evelyn was okay with it?”

“Of course she wasn't,” he laughs softly. “Kept telling me to retire but the world always needs saving and what happens if I'm no longer in the game and something big happens? I couldn't live with myself.”

There it was! Pity! Exactly what he was going for. You leaned across the table and took his hand.

“I'm not sure I can deal with this,” you bit your lip. “This is a lot. I like you, Quentin but I've not known you long enough to take the burden of your world. I don't think I have much choice though.”

Fuck.

No.

This wasn't what he was after. He wanted you to be all over him but instead you'd basically brushed him off and told him this was too dangerous and even worse....you felt obligated to be here.

Too far, much too far.

He'd need to scale things back for a while if he still wanted a chance at keeping you around and he _did_ want to keep you around. He'd invested too much to start all over again, plus there was a little something there that he wasn't expecting between the two of you.

“Shit, yeah, I get it,” he hides his face in his hands and leans on the table. “Sorry for everything.”

He almost jumped out of his skin when you were suddenly next to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up in surprise.

“So let me get to know you,” there was a fire burning in your eyes that he couldn't read.

Did you need more backstory? Did you need some confessional about his feelings?

Apparently what you needed was to kiss the life outta him because that's exactly what you did. Quentin had felt levels of need before but this was so raw and completely not on his terms that he floundered like an idiot for a second before kissing back. It's devolving into something carnal and his cock is already springing to attention just from the sheer ferocity.

“Get this off,” you break away to say, tugging at his Mysterio costume.

He wished he wasn't wearing the damn thing because it took forever to undo all the stupid little clasps and stuff and he had that idiotic undersuit on like some Olympic gymnast. Was he embarrassed to be seen like this? Around you, yes he was. He was expecting the first time you had sex to be when he was dressed in something suaver but you didn't seem to care.

He was naked before he knew it, your hand curling around his cock and pumping lazily. He groaned loudly and that only increased when you dropped to your knees and took him in your mouth.

Oh my god, where the fuck had you been all his life?! He's never had his cock sucked like this before and it was crazy how talented you were.

Teachers, man...

Dark horses.

He had to hold himself back desperately from the edge as you took him into your throat, swirling your tongue at the same time.

“Shit!” he blurts out and looks down to see you wink at him. “I don't wanna cum just yet, let me do something for you, baby.”

You let his cock go with a soft pop of your lips before standing up. He takes your clothes off, revealing what he's jerked off to a few times with your stolen pictures. Seeing it in real life though? _Damn_.

“On the table,” he lifts you up and lays you back, parting your legs. “Fuck, now there's a sight.”

Parts of his own vocabulary and phrasing were bleeding through and he couldn't pull himself back into the Mysterio character. His head was too far gone.

Quentin usually didn't do much foreplay but he desperately wanted to now. He threw himself face first into your glistening pussy, lapping up everything you could give him. The moans you gave him back drove him wild and he used his best tricks, tasting the sweetness and feeling you twitch and buck under him.

You know what? He really wouldn't mind doing this regularly. Girls he'd been with before had been either so fake it was off putting or so non-reactive that he'd lost his interest but you were so enthusiastic and so genuinely enjoying it that his cock hardened even more.

“Quentin, I'm gonna....” you gasp, hands running through his hair.

“Cum for me,” he picks up his pace.

There was no faking that orgasm for sure. Your back arched off the table, your pitch got louder and louder until it trailed off into shaking silence and your cum dripped down into his mouth.

“Oh baby, I'm gonna fuck you 'til you're mine,” Quentin climbs onto the table on top of you.

Fuck the pretence, fuck the chivalry. He had half a sneaking suspicion you were more attracted to him when he was being himself anyway.

“Come on then,” you challenge him and there's such a delicious wickedness in your expression.

He buries himself up to the hilt in you, tight, warm and wet and it's not long until he's just thrusting brutally, chasing those feral noises you were making. Anything to hear more of them.

“I'm close,” he growls as you wrap your legs high up around his back.

“Yes, Quentin, please!”

Did you know what you were asking him? Maybe you got off on being filled up. Wasn't like he couldn't slip a morning after pill into your food. May as well enjoy the moment.

“You're fucking _mine_, baby,” his cock pulses in you, spending himself as he nearly collapses on top of you.

Well shit. He couldn't remember ever having a better orgasm than that before.

Oh wait, Mysterio persona. He couldn't forget it right now.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he tries to pull himself back to the kinder stance. “I can't help myself around you. God, you are something else.”

“No regrets?” you ask with a smirk.

“None,” he kisses you before pulling out and climbing back down onto the chair. “Wow.”

“I'm gonna clean up, okay?”

“Sure, I need a minute.”

And he did. His heart was thundering. If it gave out right now, what a way to go.

You slip off the table and pad off to the bathroom and he watches your swaying ass all the way until the door closes.

**

You search through his cabinet, finding cotton buds and use those to collect some of the cum dripping out of you, as well as an unused contact lens case. Snapping the stick so you can twist the caps shut, you sit back on the toilet, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

Fury's words and your own instinct that this was too good to be true had made you very paranoid. You could send this to Fury to ask him to check if Quentin really was who he said he was. DNA doesn't lie. At the very least it should match his Earth counterpart and if not........

You really hoped it was all true though because the sex had made it ten times more confusing for you. You really liked the hidden aggressive side of him, the slight possessiveness. It made him feel more human rather than the completely blemishless hero.

You just had to know for sure though so you could stop torturing yourself.


End file.
